Skjor's Gift
by d0vahkiin
Summary: Aela's true love Skjor is killed at Gallow's Rock. Compounding her tragedy, she discovers she is carrying his child. Will one of her Shield-Brothers step up to the daunting task of surrogate fatherhood? Werewolfy goodness.
1. Chapter 1

Turos stared on in horror as his shield-sister Aela kneeled over the broken body of her lover.

"Oh, Skjor..." she sobbed. Tears rolled down her face, streaking her teal war paint and eventually coming to fall on Skjor's face. She ran her fingers over his face as if to memorize its shape.

"I'm so sorry. What can I do, Aela?"

"Go. Now!" she commanded fiercely. "I'll take care of him. I need you to tell the others what's become of him."

Even with all of the strength and battle-prowess he possessed, the Dragonborn dared not disobey the grief stricken woman. He found the nearest door to the outside and ran to the Jorrvaskr. He too was grieving for the loss of his shield-brother, but knew his emotions could not possibly be as deep as Aela's. Skjor had been her mentor, her friend, and eventually her lover. They'd been in the Circle together for years before the Dragonborn came along.

As his long legs carried him over the rough terrain, Turos contemplated whether or not this was his fault. Had he not taken the wolf blood last night, perhaps Skjor would still be alive. The gates of Whiterun loomed in the distance. The Dragonborn later did not remember passing through town, but remembered only being breathless. He sought out Kodlak, who was in the company of Vilkas as usual.

He did not want to bear this message with that man here. Vilkas hated him and would love to use any excuse to see the Dragonborn scolded.

Somehow the words came out anyway. "Skjor is dead. Aela is with him at Gallows Rock."

"You left her alone at a Silver Hand camp! What business does a whelp like you have to be hunting that lot?" Vilkas cried in a rage.

"All of the Silver Hand are also dead by our hands. She wouldn't leave Skjor."

"Calm your fire, Vilkas. Aela is a grown woman, and she makes her own decisions." Always the voice of reason, the Harbinger came to the rescue.

Kodlak turned his head to face the Dragonborn and eyed him curiously. "It would seem that you have made your own decisions too."

His scent. It must have given him away. He was not used to the newfound power of the wolf's senses that were available to him even in his human form.

Vilkas glared at the Dragonborn before taking his leave. An uncomfortable discussion with the Harbinger was sure to follow. Turos bent his head in shame. It was several moments before Kodlak spoke.

"I wanted you to be in the Circle. I was only hoping that those two wouldn't take it upon themselves to do what they did to you. But it was also your choice; you knew of the blood long before your time."

Kodlak dismissed the Dragonborn with a respectful nod of his head. The Dragonborn went to his room and did his best to clean up from his night of carnage. Weary, he collapsed onto his bed.

He slept only fitfully, tossing turning, unable to keep the beast from his mind. How were the other Circle members able to function if the beast would not let them sleep deeply? Irritated, he flung his pillow at the doorway where it happened to hit his least favorite person at Jorrvaskr.

"What is the meaning of this? I should skin you alive, you disrespectful little mongrel."

"Vilkas. Did Aela get back?" asked Turos, not bothering to apologize for the pillow.

"Aye. It was a daft thing for the both of you to do. Skjor too, but I'll not speak ill of the dead."

Vilkas left the Dragonborn's doorway with the abused pillow.

"Can I have that back?" Turos called.

Vilkas made a rude hand gesture without looking back.

_'Taking that as a no…'_

* * *

><p>Aela would not come out of Skjor's room. She'd taken to sleeping in his room where his things still held his scent. Tilma brought meals to her, which were sometimes disregarded.<p>

"The poor dear has lost the love of her life!" Tilma whispered to Turos as she brought back a plate of untouched food.

On the 4th day after Skjor had died, Aela left his rooms to take a bath. Turos noticed her scent was different, though he was not sure how he knew. His inner wolf seemed suddenly less interested in the woman. Had she bathed with some strange soap?

Vilkas' wolf noticed the change too, but he was not left wondering.

"Aela is with child," the dark man said.

"How can you possibly know that?" Turos queried

"Fool boy, you forget that I have been with the beast blood for a decade. I know what the wolf knows. You would too if you'd pay attention."

While stewing over Vilkas' words, Turos almost missed seeing Farkas come running down the steps to Vilkas frantically.

"Aela's weeping again. Have you noticed she smells pregnant?"

Turos' eyes bulged at the affirmation of Vilkas' assessment. He wanted to punch the smug look on the broody twin's face off.

* * *

><p>By evening, all of the Circle and Kodlak knew, but no one had confronted Aela.<p>

"It may not stick with the beast blood. She may not want it, without Skjor around. She's not showing at all. She's still probably early enough to get some abortifacients from Arcadia. This is not our business until Aela makes it so. If none of us could smell her, we wouldn't know."

The men resolved to act as if nothing was amiss. Playing dumb would be especially easy for Farkas.

As Turos was leaving Jorrvaskr, Aela approached him.

"Turos, can you help me with something?" He nodded warily, ready to feign surprise at the news of her pregnancy.

"Good!" she went on. "We're going to do something very secretive. No one can know about this but us."

_Oh no. She was going to ask him to procure the herbs to terminate her pregnancy from Arcadia's Cauldron._

"We're going to get revenge on the Silver Hand for what they did to Skjor."

Dumbfounded, Turos didn't answer her.

"You will help, won't you?"

"Of course!" he was so relieved that he agreed instantly.

Her eyes flooded with relief, and then tears. The huntress flung her arms around Turos' broad shoulders in a tight embrace.

Turos smiled, in the clear and listened intently as Aela instructed him on all the locations of Silver Hand hideouts.

"Do make sure you remember those well. I can't come with you."

"Excuse me?" Turos was getting tired of doing the dirty work for everyone here.

She shrugged. "Someone's got to stay here and run interference."

There was a moment of hesitation by Aela. "Also, it seems Skjor left a gift for me. I'm expecting," she admitted nervously.


	2. Chapter 2

Turos had scarcely stepped back through the thresh hold of Jorrvaskr for the past couple of days without Aela foisting another set of coordinates for Silver Hand to slaughter on him. He was tired physically and mentally. Any chances he had at sleep were ruined by his wolf running through his mind. He absently ran a hand through his blond hair while debating on whether to go back home. If he went in he might be able to sleep, but if Aela saw him first, he was sure to earn more revenge tasks. Still he needed sleep. Turos decided to chance it.

He crept in through the back door. He saw two women eating dinner and discussing fighting tactics. Neither were Aela, so he breathed a sigh of relief. Turos summoned all his experience of dealing with political dignitaries in his role of Dragonborn to assume an air of nonchalance. He would just walk to his room and attempt sleep. No one paid him any mind as he descended the staircase to the living quarters. As he opened the door, he was suddenly face to face with Kodlak White-mane himself.

"Come, Turos. You and I have much to discuss."

The Dragonborn suddenly felt less sure of himself, but obediently followed his elder to the innermost living quarters. He recognized the sitting room as the place he'd first met Kodlak and Vilkas.

Kodlak waited for Turos to seat himself before also settling in a chair.

"I know what you and Aela are up to. And I'm going to ask you one time to stop. You're playing with fire."

"What do you mean, sir?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.

Kodlak's firm glance told him that the act was not believable. "This vendetta is blinding Aela, and you too. If you continue to corner the Silver Hand, they will fight back harder because they have nothing to lose. Promise me you won't attack them first anymore. This is how we lost Skjor."

"I promise," said Turos. He meant that promise too; he had no wish to endanger anyone at Jorrvaskr.

"I'm very old. I'm very tired. You're also tired looking, Dragonborn. Come back in a few hours and I will tell you the truth about everything. The Circle. Our curse. You deserve to know."

Turos would.

* * *

><p><em>'The perks of being in the Circle...'<em> Turos thought._ 'Your own room with a double bed. Access to a real tub and not a wash basin. Not to mention a built in fur coat and the ability to run on four legs!'_

He was headed to his new room away from the whelps after his first warm bath in ages when he noticed his door was slightly ajar. He almost asked who was in there when he remembered he had the nose of a hound attached to his own face. He sniffed lightly and scented Aela among his things. She was easy to pick out because of her peculiar pregnancy smell.

"Aela," he began, "If this is about the jobs, I can't do any more than I have. Kodlak knows-"

His words were cut off suddenly by her soft lips on his.

He struggled with his arms before deciding to wrap them around her awkwardly. Before he could even reciprocate the kiss, she broke off sobbing.

"I shouldn't have done that. Forgive me!" the huntress cried, dashing away from the Dragonborn.

More confused than ever, Turos sighed knowing in advance that sleep would never come to him. Instead he followed the distraught woman into her refuge. She'd retreated to Skjor's room again.

"Aela..." said Turos soothingly as he entered."It's okay. I'm not mad. Would you like to talk about it?"

"I didn't mean to do that. I just meant to say thank you," said the huntress in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

"For what?"

"It means a lot to me that you've done so much to honor Skjor's memory. I can tell it's not just for my sake. You really respected him. He felt that, and he respected you too. What you've done for him in the past days has completed all he wanted..." her words trailed off, dangerously close to tears.

Turos sat down beside Aela and put an arm around her. Her tears glistened in the low candle light, but this time she did not burst into sobs. They slowly made a path down her cheeks and cut through her old war paint. This silent crying was unnerving to Turos so he did the only thing he could think of. He crossed the room to the washbasin and wet the cloth that hung nearby. He returned to his shield sister and wiped away the tearstains and the streaked paint gently. At first she stiffened, but then she relaxed into his careful ministrations. When he was done he looked at her carefully, for he'd never seen her without her blue paint. She was quite lovely to behold. Turos could see why Skjor had fallen in love with Aela. She was both beautiful and fierce. Her heart was as wild as her wolf.

Before he realized what he was doing, Turos kissed Aela's coppery hair and inhaled her scent. Even that was lovely to him, as she smelled like sunshine, the outdoors and like a pack mate to his wolf. 'As his forbear, it would be logical,' he thought.

She pulled away from him and opened her mouth to speak, but didn't.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that either." Turos offered.

Aela gave him a sad smile. "It's okay, Dragonborn. I know your intentions are honorable."

_"Most of them,"_ he thought dryly.

"I'm keeping the child. I would have wanted Skjor to give me a child anyway, and there'll be no other chance than this. I must confess that I am scared to go it alone."

Turos covered Aela's hand briefly with his much larger one. "You won't have to go it alone. Every man and woman here would go out on a limb to help you."

Aela smiled up at him sadly, "I know I have the Companions as my family. Especially the Circle. We are all pack mates in the blood. I'm just afraid to know a world without love. I don't know if I can wait for the day Hircine takes me to the Great Hunt. If not for this child in me, I would go to Skjor now."

Turos wanted so badly to comfort her more, but he could not bring himself to try while sitting in the room of the man who really owned her heart. A man he himself had loved as family, and who had scarcely left this life.

_'Aela, you need time,'_ he thought, _'but you're not unlovable.'_

* * *

><p>Kodlak Whitemane was waiting for Turos already, but he didn't seem mad or impatient.<p>

"I hope you got a bit of rest." said the old man kindly.

"Not really, Harbinger. I didn't get a chance. Aela wanted to speak, and then she asked me to sit with her until she fell asleep."

"How very kind of you. Our lovely Huntress has taken up quite a lot of your time lately."

Turos blushed crimson, but did not offer protest.

Kodlak went on. "I must ask for a favor myself. But first, it's time you should know something. Do you know how we Companions came to have the beast blood?"


	3. Chapter 3

Turos raced through the forest outside Whiterun city, weighed down by a gruesome burden. Inside a sack at his side, he was carrying five severed heads from Glenmoril witches. He could feel the blood soaking through the bag and running down his legs. It had seeped in the openings in his armor. He would need a bath, for sure. By his best reckoning, it was three days since he'd left Whiterun after Kodlak bade him fetch the heads. His Harbinger knew of a way to cleanse the wolfish taint on his soul so that he would be able to go to Sovngarde upon his death instead of Hircine's hunting grounds. The telling of how the Companions came to be werewolves did not seem to be as much of a curse as Kodlak made it out to be, but he respected the old man's wishes.

Quite eager to see the use the heads would have in the cure, Turos pushed his legs to carry him faster to the city gates. The guards recognized him immediately and stopped him.

"Hail Companion. There's been some trouble at Jorrvaskr. An attack. You should go see if you're needed right away."

Turos' heart sank, and any fatigue he had felt melted away in a dire need to be home. He never remembered how he got there so fast, but he always would remember certain details. Fires in Whiterun, everyone on the street with scared faces, all turned to Jorrvaskr.

Companions were surrounding the building defensively. Bodies lay strewn in the yard, none he recognized. All seemed to be rogue bandits or Silver Hand. Turos allowed himself hope that his loved ones were fine. As he entered the building, his hopes were dashed. Several of his comrades had fallen and were being tended to. But Farkas and Aela were kneeling at the body of Kodlak White-mane. Strange, he looked so much smaller and frailer in death than he had in life. Aela was sobbing and holding Kodlak's lifeless hand. Farkas looked up at Turos with the only tears he had ever seen in his eyes, but was silent.

Turos felt tears of his own filling his eyelids and blinked to clear them when Vilkas slammed him into the wall behind him. The fiery twin's hand was around his throat and claws were threatening to emerge from his fingertips.

"Where. Were. You?"

Turos said nothing.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE. Now Kodlak is dead because of you." Vilkas practically spit in his face.

"Let him go. It's not his fault." It was Aela to Turos' defense.

"HE still needs to answer." Vilkas argued.

Turos considered. It had been a secret. A secret between him and the now dead Harbinger…

"I was doing something for Kodlak."

"It had better have been DAMNED worth it. He's dead now."

"Vilkas," Aela growled warningly.

The man released his grip on Turos' neck slowly and Turos rubbed the flesh gingerly.

"You know damned well that this couldn't have been prevented with one more Companion here. The attack was too well organized," Aela said softly.

Turos couldn't help but notice she looked at him with guilt in her own eyes. Kodlak had warned them both not to provoke the Silver Hand. Was this the retaliation that the old man had feared? He couldn't help it anymore and fled Jorrvaskr. He had a home in the city that he really only used to store some of his valuables. Turos needed to be alone and that is where he would go.

"The coward flees!" Vilkas roared, throwing his brawny arms into the air.

Aela didn't respond to Vilkas' temper and silently followed the departing shape.

* * *

><p>Lydia, Turos' Housecarl, met him at the door. He awkwardly handed her the bag of witch heads which was leaking blood onto his hardwood floor. He was regretting his decision to take the 4 extra heads when Kodlak had only asked for one. He'd only done it because he'd wanted Kodlak to have the pick of them for whatever intangible quality the Harbinger was seeking. It was too late now. The much beloved Kodlak White-mane had died before the cure could be found and his soul would never find rest in Sovngarde.<p>

Fresh tears overwhelmed Turos, much to Lydia's dismay. She brought him a steaming cup of tea and stared uneasily as her Thane watched it until heat no longer rose from the cup. He made no move to drink it, and it seemed to her eye that it was taking every ounce of Turos' strength to not openly weep. A pounding came at the door and Lydia went to turn away the unexpected visitor. Turos still wanted to be left alone in his grief and confusion.

Lydia did not return upstairs to sit with him. Instead, a familiar redheaded woman silently entered.

"Aela!" choked out Turos.

She wrapped her arms around him briefly. "How are you holding up?"

"I just can't believe any of this. It can't be real. I don't want it to be."

"I just want you to know Turos. It's not your fault. Please try to forgive Vilkas. He and the Harbinger were especially close."

Turos nodded reluctantly but didn't say anything. Forgive that vile man? Who as good as blamed him for the death of wise old Kodlak?

"I mean it. Vilkas isn't a bad guy. Before the attack... he was talking about hiring a carriage to Riften," Aela said abstractly.

"What is in Riften that has anything to do with this conversation?" Turos snapped, tired of hearing anything about Vilkas.

"Well for one, the Temple of Mara is in Riften. He offered to marry me and step in for Skjor as a father to the baby," Aela said, rubbing her stomach.

Turos was dumbstruck and slightly hurt. Was this jealousy he was feeling? No… it couldn't be. Aela was his shield-sister and nothing more. She could wed whomever she liked.

"Is that something you'd enjoy?"

"Maybe," Aela lied, "but the point is, he's actually a nice, caring guy when he wants to be."

"So you're in love with him?" Turos asked venomously.

Aela sighed. "No. Actually my heart died with Skjor. But it's still very generous of Vilkas to act as father to a child that isn't his if he will. I guess being something of an orphan himself makes him sensitive to my situation."

Turos was still caught up in elements of that statement. Vilkas was generous? Sensitive? In Turos' time with the Companions, that man had struck him as the greediest, selfish and prickly bastard he'd ever met. He had even admitted that he was motivated by money over honor.

"So," Aela continued, "will you find it in your heart to forgive Vilkas for what just transpired? He's grieving too."

"On one condition. Don't marry him. If you promise not to marry him, I'll forgive him. Even then, I'm only doing it for your sake."

"Fair enough. I just want this rift in the Companions healed," said Aela. She gave Turos a small sad smile. She knew the man had feelings for her, and to see him display them gave her heart a small flutter of hope that maybe one day, she could love again.

"I'll come back to Jorrvaskr. We'll set all of this right. I promise you, Aela. You'll be happier if you don't marry Vilkas," Turos whispered into her hair. When had he gotten so close to her?

"It was just an idea, Turos. With Skjor gone, I can't expect to marry for love anymore," Aela said softly, squeezing tears out of her eyes with a fierce blink.

"Well, let someone else try to love you. Even if you don't love me back right away, or ever. I care about you and I want to try."

His admission of love did not stun Aela as much as it did Turos himself. She pulled her hand from his and stood up slowly. Turos rose as well and the pair walked downstairs.

"Lydia, we're going to Jorrvaskr," called Turos.

"Yes my Thane!" came her steadfast reply.

Here he was, going off to make peace with the enemy, for love of his shield-sister, who had seemingly rejected his feelings. No, that was unfair. She was a grieving woman, also with child by her lost beloved. Still, this situation seemed so absolutely hopeless to him. He tried to rationalize it in such a way that he didn't feel slighted when he noticed the bloody bag of witch heads by the door.

"For Kodlak," he mumbled. Yes. He was making peace for Kodlak. He would be putting his selfish and petty quarrels behind him, and the selfish feelings of need for Aela's affection behind him. Kodlak would have wanted Turos to get along with Vilkas, and he would have wanted any of the Companions to take care of Aela.

So for Kodlak White-mane, Turos began his return to Jorrvaskr and his place in the Circle.


	4. Chapter 4

Aela had been right, it seemed. Vilkas was grieving too. Turos had nearly felt his heart stop in shock when he received the only apology he had ever heard issued from Vilkas' mouth. The apology was delivered tersely, but at least seemed sincere. The jury was still out on whether he would agree with her assessment that the broody man was actually kind and generous, but for now, Turos felt more comfortable with his Shield-brother. Okay, well comfortable may have been an exaggeration. But he wanted to punch Vilkas slightly less.

"Kodlak would love this," he said aloud, quite by accident, thinking of the genuine apology he'd just received.

"What are you talking about?" Vilkas asked crossly.

"Nothing," he replied, not daring to risk any more of Vilkas' ire.

Vilkas bowed his head before looking back at Turos. For once, Turos' inner wolf didn't want to grovel or hide. He felt equal to the other man.

"We're going to bring our wrath down on those Silver Hand scum. We'll bring honor back to Kodlak and take our revenge. We know where they are holed up, and we're going there, you and me."

Turos knew Vilkas was not a man who did anything for only one motivation. So he asked, "What else are we doing?"

"Fool-"he cut himself off and shook his head before starting again. "_Brother,_ have you not seen the wall? It is bare. Those dirty murderers have stolen the Fragments of Wuuthrad. Including the piece you and Farkas retrieved from Dustman's Cairn. We know they've gone to Driftshade Refuge, and we will follow. Every last Silver Hand will lay dead! I won't rest until the last drop of blood drains from their pathetic bodies!"

Vilkas was shaking with the anger he felt for the Silver Hand and their callous desecration of Kodlak's life's work, but still Turos no longer felt terribly afraid of the man. Instead he felt the beginnings of admiration for him. Revenge was a concept Turos could get behind, even though it was never a core value of the Companions. It was refreshing to see another who wanted very badly to avenge Kodlak's death.

Turos shocked Vilkas and himself when he gave an earnest reply that was devoid of sarcasm.

"I would be proud to accompany you, Shield-Brother!"

* * *

><p>Vilkas wanted to rush to Driftshade Refuge right away with no regard for personal wellbeing, but Turos managed to convince him to wait until morning. The juxtaposition of roles was rather awkward, because in the past Vilkas had been the voice of reason among the Companions. With Kodlak's death affecting him, he was so bent on revenge that Turos found himself uncomfortably in charge.<p>

"It's storming. If we wait until the morning, we can hire a carriage in that general direction and we'd STILL be there faster than walking now." Turos neglected to mention that he was able to clear the skies with his Thu'um. He had another reason for wishing to linger in Whiterun, but Vilkas thankfully did not seem to sense an ulterior motive. The fiery twin reluctantly agreed with Turos' assessment of the weather.

The building had been quickly restored to order; the injured comrades were being attended at the Temple of Kynareth. The bodies of the brutes that'd attacked had been taken by some of the guards to rot in the wilds and be picked over by scavengers. There was nothing honorable about that, but a Silver Hand murderer deserved no dignity, even in death. Turos sought out Aela with purpose. She was never hard to locate, with her long red locks helping her stand apart from any crowd. He found her sitting with Njada and Farkas in silence. Not surprising. Farkas never seemed to have much on his mind worth putting into words, and Njada was surly at the best of times. Turos wondered if he should break their amiable silence, but he wanted to clear the air with Aela before he left.

"Aela, care for a stroll?"

"The weather's not really ideal for such a thing," she began, but quickly added at Turos' crestfallen look, "What Companion ever let a little water stop her?"

Njada scowled after them both as Aela joined Turos, "Don't you both come back smelling like wet dogs."

Did the Circle never bathe?

Turos ignored the Imperial woman's snide remark, and took Aela's hand on impulse. She started, but allowed it to remain, needing the comfort of her Shield-brother in this difficult time. The silence continued as they walked outside slowly. No one was on the back patio, which was good. The Dragonborn let his mind clear for a moment and turned his face to the sky.

"Lok Vah Koor!" He shouted into the clouds.

Presently, the rain stilled and the clouds vanished to reveal the two moons in different phases.

"I had forgotten you could do that," Aela started, "You seem so normal, most days, that I forget you are the Dragonborn."

It was true. Turos never went about showing off his status as Thane, nor did he make a big deal out of the fact that he was the Dragonborn who was working with the Greybeards themselves to master his abilities and save the world from Alduin. He preferred the relative anonymity of being one of many Companions, or one of many Nords in Whiterun.

"Normal is a relative term," he finally replied. He was distracted again, and he wanted to kiss her and comfort her. His wolf was railing against his self-control and driving him to just do it. Surely having a beast soul that fought his will could not be considered normal by any means?

Aela finally broke the uneasiness by turning away and heading for the Underforge. Turos followed, easily matching her long strides.

"I know you wanted to go for a walk, but I had a better idea. _Run _with me." It was more a command than a request, and the inflection on the word run emphasized that she meant to run on more than two legs.

"Is it a good idea?"Turos asked thinking of the baby.

"My wolf wants to run and so do I. I'll never have the pleasure of running with another wolf again unless it's you."

"Farkas and Vilkas-" he began, but she cut off his words.

"They were completely devoted to Kodlak. They will suppress their wolves till the day they die," she finished sadly.

The Dragonborn knew Aela was missing Skjor again. They had been the only two likeminded members of the Circle. They were their own pack. They'd brought him into it, though, and he swore for Aela's sake, Skjor's memory, and the sake of his unborn child that he would never let her go lonely.

He unfastened his armor and tossed it to the side with loud clanks. Sneaking a glance upward, he saw that Aela was not only undressed, but she'd begun to transform as well. He had a moment's vision of her loveliness, but then her form was obscured with the growth of thick dark fur. He was glad she'd turned her back to him, because without clothing, his interest in her was visible. _It was no use hiding it, _he thought. She could smell his arousal in either form thanks to her beast.

Changes complete, Aela dropped to all fours and left the Underforge through the secret exit into the plains. Turos felt his beast's satisfaction at having been allowed to emerge and raced out to join her. Running would do him some good, at least. So they did.

* * *

><p>Vilkas was irritated at the late start he would be getting in going to exact his revenge.<p>

Talking to his twin for some time had helped alleviate what lingering anger he had toward Turos. Farkas had maintained the same point as Aela that having Turos there would not really have made a difference. If it was in fact true, that the Dragonborn had been absent at Kodlak's bidding, he couldn't stay angry. The Harbinger had apparently felt safe enough to send him, and who was Vilkas to question Kodlak's judgment?

Eorlund Gray-mane had come to collect the remains of their beloved leader. Friend to the Companions for longer than Vilkas had been around, Eorlund was as torn up about the death as any member. He was handling the preparations for the memorial and cremation that would come in a few days, as was the custom. What was unusual by the traditions of Skyrim was that a deceased Harbinger returned to the Skyforge instead of a normal pyre or tomb. It was believed that the strength of the leader would imbue the Skyforge steel with his power. All Companions carried a weapon, or several crafted of the legendary steel produced here.

The Skyforge. Vilkas hadn't made a visit recently at all. His personal problems had in fact, interfered. He wasn't sure if he could restrain his beast from taking over if he went to the place he'd taken the blood, so he'd stopped going into the Underforge. He suddenly felt up to taking a walk down memory lane. Sleep wasn't going to come to him anyway, while his blood was hot with thoughts of revenge. He crept out of his room, hearing Farkas' snores in the room across from his. Even his brother had succumbed to sleep at this hour, it seemed.

Aela was absent from hers or Skjor's quarters, and Vilkas didn't have the heart to meander through Kodlak's quarters. He wondered if the bed was even made up from the last time the old man had woken up in it, this morning.

"Can't think like this."

"Are you all right? You're talking to yourself."

It was Ria. Did she always have to ask him personal questions every time she saw him?

"I'm fine whelp. Just taking a walk to clear my head."

She smiled at him, not at all stung by his calling her a whelp. This was a difficult time, and that was what she was, after all. "Well, try to feel better. Kodlak wouldn't want us to be upset, right?"

Vilkas barely heard the end of what she said, because he was already up the stairs and headed outside. He crossed the courtyard and made for the Underforge to reminisce.


	5. Chapter 5

The time spent in wolf form served well to burn off a bit of the excess energy Turos had. It had unfortunately, not helped sway his desire for Aela. He knew he could go to the Bannered Mare and get any girl in the inn to his room for the night. He was the Thane of Whiterun, a handsome blonde Nord. Tall and lean, well-dressed; Turos was eye candy with a reputation for being brave. He was also known as a ranking member of the Companions. That, he had heard from the twins, was usually an instant panty-remover. He was not strictly seeking release. He had grown to care for Aela for who she was. His wolf desired her wolf now too. Another girl, while she may be willing and pretty, was no substitute for the strong and wild creature that was Aela.

The wolves had frolicked in the plains and chased deer. They made no kills, but pounced at each other like kittens. Anyone who thought a werewolf to be a dangerous beast would surely have had a change of heart on seeing Aela and Turos at play. With a heavy heart, Turos realized he needed to get at least some sleep for the day ahead. He could rest some on the wagon, but he doubted it would be comfortable. He loped up the hill to the Underforge tunnel, and exhausted, fell onto the floor as his wolf subsided and he became a man once more. Aela crept in silently and curled up next to him before resuming her human form.

There was a brief moment of quiet before Aela climbed onto the Dragonborn and kissed him. His green eyes fluttered open and met her amber ones. The huntress leant in to kiss Turos again, but he captured her lips and took control of the movement. His hands, seemingly with minds of their own, left his side and found Aela's hair. He grasped great handfuls of her silky red tresses and pulled her face closer to nuzzle her. She gasped as his stubble brushed her cheeks a little too roughly, and Turos made a mental note to shave more often.

Now straddling her shield-brother, Aela moved lower to kiss his neck, and bite at it playfully, as she had done when they were werewolves. Her nipping elicited a husky moan from the man under her and excited her as well. His hands were all over her, caressing her softly rounded breasts, firmly squeezing her delicate rear. Turos even noticed the slightest bit of firm rounding beginning to show in her abdomen. Still not obviously swollen with pregnancy, the change startled him, but did not disgust him. Aela was beautiful, fertile, womanly and strong. He caressed her abdomen and then claimed her lips again reassuringly.

She was breathing heavily, her arousal making her head foggy. Turos could smell her desire and wetness and his cock responded by promptly becoming even harder. He inched his hand down to her opening and probed at the folds with a finger, earning a delicate cry from her throat. She pushed her hips closer to the Dragonborn.

"Please," she begged.

Needing no further encouragement, he put a gentle arm around her and flipped over so that she was underneath him. She was lighter than many things he'd had to lift. When she seemed comfortable, he pushed himself into her in one slow stroke.

Her cries were musical to him, and as he thrust into her warmth, he felt her tighten around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders and Turos worked her to completion. He felt his own climax approaching, spurred on by her pleasure. He spilled his hot seed into her with a groan and lay still with her for a moment, the both of them panting to catch breath.

She became strangely silent and made for her armor, but Turos held on tightly. "Where are you going?"

"I just need to think. I'm sorry," Aela replied laying a reassuring kiss on his nose. She stood up and dressed with a deftness that suggested she'd gotten dressed in the dark every night of her life. She smoothed her fiery locks down and helped Turos to straighten himself out as well.

"You need to rest. I know Vilkas will want you to take to the road before first light."

The Huntress grasped Turos' hand and led him, much more accustomed to moving in darkness. As they exited, she stopped suddenly noticing the door was already slightly open.

"What is it?"

Her eyes widened. "I know I shut that. What if someone saw us?"

Turos shrugged. "So what if they did? Would you be embarrassed?"

Aela shook her head, rather unconvincingly, and planted a quick kiss on the Dragonborn's nose. She slipped out of the Underforge and ran off to her room.

Turos did not feel like sleeping, but decided to stay up and wait for Vilkas to depart. His body may have been satisfied, but his mind was far from that point. Perhaps Aela was embarrassed of him.

That morning in the grey light before the sun rose, Turos made his way down the stony path to the Whiterun Stables. He was not at all surprised to see a dark hulking figure ahead of him, pacing impatiently. That was surely Vilkas, waiting for him to set off. As he approached, the Dragonborn saw the face of his shield-brother and smiled. He was met with a fierce glare that chased the smile off his lips.

"Good morning Vilkas. Are you ready to go?"

"What do you think, Blondie? We've no time for pleasantries. I already paid for the carriage. Get in."

Turos sighed as he hoisted his bags into the back obediently. What happened to the understanding they'd come to? Vilkas seemed to have resumed his former air of hostility toward him as if the past day had never happened.

The carriage set off along the road, and the first two hours of the journey were spent in absolute silence. Turos dozed in and out of consciousness, trying to make up for the last night's lack of sleep. His wolf raced through his mind, preventing him from reaching restfulness.

Vilkas had pulled out a knife and was repetitively stabbing at a piece of wood and staring at Turos grimly. The Dragonborn reeked of wolf and sex. Aela's scent, both human and beast was all over him. It was disgusting enough that he'd briefly walked in on their tryst in the Underforge, but that Turos hadn't even the decency to take a full shower before the journey was just vile. Surely he knew, being a wolf himself that Vilkas knew what he'd been up to.

"Could you stop staring at me?" Turos asked sitting up. "I keep feeling your eyes burning a hole into the back of my head."

"Of course," Vilkas said acidly, "wouldn't want to let all of that hot air out of your skull."

"What is your problem this morning? I thought last night we had an understanding."

Vilkas snapped on Turos suddenly. "We did have one. Then you blew it by taking advantage of my shield-sister."

"Is that what she told you I did?" Turos asked solemnly.

"She told me nothing. The two of you were too busy frolicking to notice that I was in the Underforge. Don't worry. I'm no voyeur. I left immediately when you started. I just want to know one thing. How could you take advantage of a pregnant woman in mourning like that?"

Dumbstruck, the Dragonborn fumbled for a proper response but got nothing. He hung his head in shame for the duration of the journey. At some point, Vilkas gruffly ordered him out of the carriage to continue the journey on foot. As they came upon Driftshade Refuge, Turos was forced out of his internal pity party.

"For Kodlak!" Vilkas shouted charging into battle.

"For Kodlak!"

**AN: Sorry I skipped the other missions. I thought they would add tedium of reading a play-by-play of the game. I'm not going to skip Driftshade or Ysgramor's Tomb. They are actually some of the most important to this fic.**


End file.
